Of Plastic Guns and Foam Bullets
by Order of the Aether
Summary: AKA The OTHER Great Battle of Stark Tower. Clint Barton instigates a Nerf war. Bucky Barnes is with him. And now you can see how all havoc broke loose. Just a silly little team bonding drabble, with Bucky. Post-CA:TWS, somewhere before Age of Ultron. My usual AU.
1. The War Begins

**A/N: Dedicated to Mish of the Order, whose favorite Avenger is Hawkeye. Enjoy!**

* * *

 **The War Begins**

Sergeant Barnes let instinct overtake his actions as he peered down the sight. Collective decades of Winter Soldier "training" sealed his face into an expressionless mask over the stock of his gun, darkening his eyes on all but the target as his gloved fingers slid into place by muscle memory. His shoulders rolled forward in anticipation of the recoil, his entire posture taking on a mechanical precision for the shot.

"Wow, you're good," noted Clint Barton from behind him. "I haven't even seen you fire a shot yet, and I know you're good."

Sergeant Barnes turned, letting the Nerf assault rifle drop onto his elbow—and once again, he was Bucky Barnes, face heating and turning pink at an unexpected compliment from a teammate.

"Th-thank you," Bucky somehow stammered out. He'd been working on expressing gratitude when he felt it—which was often, far more often, around Steve's friends. Thank yous were important, after all. And they made Steve grin like it was his birthday, which was fun to see.

Clint gave a firm nod, adding, "You're welcome." He kindly called no more attention to Bucky's reaction, opting instead to climb into position beside him on the edge of their pillow "nest" in the rafters.

"These are foam bullets, though," Clint remarked, sighting his own gun. "They're always gonna go a bit wide. Even mine do, and I keep these things in mint condition." As if to demonstrate, he fired through a doorway at a light switch in the common room and only clipped the edge of the casing.

Bucky nodded slowly, processing the skill of Clint's shot and the intention of his statement. There was no sign in Barton's expression of intensity or authority that would demand Bucky to obey. Actually, Clint looked like he'd forgotten he'd said anything at all. So it was advice.

 _Advice._ Steve had explained this. Advice was like a command that you could decide not to follow, as long as you were gentle in saying no. Bucky wasn't quite sure what "gentle" looked like, but it seemed to mean "saying things like Steve"—which he wasn't good at yet, but no one got mad at him for it.

"I...like to sight it close," muttered Bucky. Clint turned to him with a look of mild surprise.

Bucky pulled his back up straighter. "I—it goes wide, but I still want to hit my target. So I'll be more careful. Sight it close."

Clint pursed his lips and nodded in consent, turning away. "Yeah, that makes sense," he agreed, and said no more on the subject.

Something like wind under a kite rushed up in Bucky's chest. _I said no,_ he marveled, _and he's not mad. He didn't yell at me or hit me. I said no, and he listened._

Bucky stared with saucer eyes at the Nerf gun in his lap and wondered if this was what pride felt like.

"Psst," hissed Clint. "Bogey at two o'clock."

Snapping back to reality, Bucky flattened himself on the cushions, glancing over the top of the pillow barrier as over the top of a trench. He wasn't quite sure why Clint was sneaking glances at him and grinning like he'd burst out laughing.

Dr. Banner appeared around the hall corner, his nose in some paperback book. Clint groaned audibly, but when Bucky turned to ask why he'd blown their cover, Clint had already laid down his weapons.

Dr. Bruce Banner paused in the hallway, then turned and squinted up through the gleam on his glasses. "What are you doing, Clint?" he asked, not without a chuckle in his voice.

Clint poked his head over the pillows. "Snipers' night in!" he grinned. "I made a nest."

With that, Bucky got to his knees and revealed his presence to the doctor.

Banner's eyes went wide, and he blinked mildly for a moment before asking in a careful tone, "Does Steve know...?"

"Nope," supplied Clint. "Barnes joined me all of his own volition."

Bucky felt a smirk tug at the corners of his lips. _Yeah. I did._

"I d-don't have ta tell Stevie everything," retorted Bucky, slipping into a headstrong Brooklyn accent.

That earned a grin and a nod from the doctor. "Fair enough," he replied. "Well," he shrugged, turning to go, "I guess I'll leave you to it, then. Don't cause trouble, Bar—"

A foam bullet struck Bruce on the back of the head.

Clint hissed a curse word and took cover under the pillows. Bucky's eyes went wide, checking to see if he'd accidentally fired.

He'd heard about the big green rage monster. Oh, Steve would kill him for sure if he unleashed that thing in the Tower...

Bruce, who'd been standing motionless, reached up to rub the back of his head. He stiffly turned around and seemed to catch sight of Bucky's terror-struck expression.

Any rigidity melted from the doctor's posture. He stooped down to pick up the bullet from the floor and held it up to Bucky. "Accident?" he asked.

Bucky just stared.

"Hey, I'm fine," smiled Bruce, spreading his hands in a peacemaking gesture. "I'm fine. It's just foam."

Bucky nodded stiffly.

Bruce pocketed the bullet and picked up his book. "I'll be going now," he said, adding a slight nod of goodwill. "Keep Barton on a short leash."

As his footsteps receded down the hallway, Clint let a long breath out into the pillows. "Safe," he whispered.

"Barton, I'm warning you now," Bruce announced with a tone that made Clint jump, "if you shot me in the head hoping to shift it onto James, you might not have to deal with the Other Guy—but you _will_ have to face Steve."

Clint paled and then gave a boisterous laugh, as if to cover it up.

Bucky felt himself roll his eyes.

Clint's bout of laughter wore off lamely, and he wouldn't look Bucky in the eye. "That Bruce, y'know," he said, scratching awkwardly behind his ear. "He's—he's a jokester."

Bucky gave him the Winter Soldier Death Glare #3. He might still have been learning about communicating with others again, but he wasn't _blind_.

"Okay, yeah, I know," muttered Clint. "Sorry."

With that, Bucky couldn't be quite so mad at Clint. Steve might not have called it a sincere apology, but any apology was still a new experience for Bucky. It felt like respect. It felt good.

"Did you do it?" asked Bucky.

Clint shot him a wary look from where he lounged on his back against the pillows. "Do what?" he echoed.

Bucky tipped his head toward the hallway below. "Shoot him," he clarified.

Clint opened his mouth and stared at an undefined spot on the ceiling, starting to knock the sides of his feet together. "Ahh, _maybe_..."

Bucky narrowed his eyes. In lieu of a comeback, he swung the rifle around in a flash and shot Barton square in the chest.

"Ow!" cried Barton, but he was already laughing. He whipped out a bulky orange handgun and shot Bucky in the flesh arm.

A momentary sting zapped through Bucky's skin, and just as quickly, it was gone. He shot Barton again.

"Ah! Shh, shh!" hissed Clint, crouching on the pillows. "Stop it!"

For a moment, Bucky thought that Clint might be bluffing, until he heard footsteps and an unguarded voice in the adjacent hall.

"Yeah, Pep, I did get out of the lab," drawled Tony Stark. "I'm out of the lab right now. Was when you called. Well, within a margin of a few minutes, give or take—no, I swear, I have."

As Tony appeared around the bend, completely unawares, both Clint and Bucky flattened themselves on the "nest". Bucky couldn't be sure whether he was sensing the tense energy and glee off of Clint, or feeling it himself.

"Hokkaido, huh?" echoed Tony to something Pepper said. "Sounds a bit by-the-numbers, haven't been—nah, you want to go, I'll get reservations. I can reserve the whole restaurant if—what? Aw, fine."

Bucky could hardly believe it when Tony paused in clear shot from the "nest", staring back down the hall from which he came.

" _Now?_ " Bucky mouthed to Clint.

Clint shook his head, grinning like a child.

"Whatever you want, Pep. Carry-out it is, then. All right. I'll see you in two. Yeah. Love you too. Yeah. Bye."

Tony pulled the StarkPhone down from his ear and pressed "end call."

" _Now!_ " Clint mouthed.

Both snipers leaped up from their positions, assaulting Tony Stark with the crack of guns and a rain of foam bullets. Tony gave a loud yell less of pain than surprise, hissed a curse as a missile struck his cheek, and shouted, "Damn it, Clint!"

Clint gave an uproarious laugh as Tony dove for the couches in the common room. Bucky continued to land single shots into Tony's back as he fled.

Tony ripped a pillow off of a nearby couch and hurled it blindly at the nest. Clint just barely dodged it.

"Your aim sucks, Stark!" roared Clint, then turned and got a face-full of throw pillow.

"Ya wanna say that again?!" gloated Tony, scooping that same pillow off the floor.

Bucky, who'd taken cover, sprang up and landed a shot in Tony's arm.

"Ow!" hissed Tony. Then his eyes widened. "Oh god help us, you've got the Soldier?"

Now it was Clint's turn to spring up, guns leveled. "Surrender, Stark, and you may live! Maybe," grinned Clint.

Tony dropped the pillow, raising his hands. "Truce! Mercy! Uncle! Whatever," he rattled off.

Bucky's tense posture slowly became more of a playful show than instinct. "Terms of surrender," he muttered to Clint, his gun still trained on Stark.

"Free tickets to The Force Awakens," smirked Clint. "And two thousand bucks."

"Sure, you— _what?!_ " protested Tony. He slung a throw pillow into Clint.

"What is this?" cried Tony as Clint laughed. "This is highway robbery! In _my_ tower! And why didn't my wonderful AI alert me that I was about to get _ambushed_ in _my own home_?"

"I'm afraid, Sir, that they had me sworn to secrecy," piped up JARVIS, sounding anything but regretful.

Tony's hand flew to his chest as he gasped. "Betrayed by my own AI!" he said with a dramatic choke. "That's it. This is war!"

He stomped off the way he came, apparently going back to the lab.

Meanwhile, Clint fell over laughing, choking on his own breath as he held his sides.

Bucky peered out where Tony had left. "D-does he have...Nerf...guns too?" The brand name sounded clumsy on his tongue.

"Hell yeah he does," grinned Clint. "That was glorious," he muttered, still laughing. "And this'll be better. I want to get Cap."

Suddenly, the opportunity to pelt Steve Rogers with harmless little foam bullets seemed like the best thing that happened to Bucky all week.

* * *

 **A/N: Stay tuned for Part 2! Reviews are pillows in my pillow nest.**


	2. Intrigue, Mayhem, and Pepper Potts

**Intrigue, Mayhem...and Pepper Potts**

"Tony?" Steve Rogers called into the wide-open, cluttered lab. Tony's three helper bots—U, Butterfingers, and Dum-E, if Steve remembered correctly—turned and chirped greetings as he and Natasha entered the lab.

"Hold on to your spangled tights, Rogers, I'll be out in five," barked Tony from some hidden closet, attracting the attention of the bots.

Natasha Romanoff graciously rolled her eyes for him, so Steve just smiled.

With a rattle of plastic, Tony Stark emerged hilariously decked out in crossing rows of blue foam bullets and orange magazines, two bulky plastic guns hanging from either hip and another in his hand.

"What...?" began Steve.

Natasha raised an eyebrow and gave a knowing smirk.

"Make it quick," huffed Tony. "I'm going to war on Barton."

"Oh," answered Steve, although he was nowhere _near_ understanding. "Uh...we're looking for Bucky."

"JARVIS isn't talking," elaborated Natasha. "Says he's 'afraid he can't divulge that information'. But he was only too happy to tell us where you are."

"Not my fault," shrugged Tony. "He's gone AWOL. Feathers had him sworn to secrecy."

"Barton?" clarified Steve, only getting more confused.

"Yep. And I can tell you where the ex-brainwashed assassin with a metal arm is hiding out, or—"

Tony held out one of the plastic guns, with its handle toward Natasha.

"You can help me take him down," Tony finished.

Natasha seized the gun with a rare smile of something like bliss.

"Wait, do those things hurt at all?" asked Steve with the sudden realization of where this was headed.

Natasha fired a little foam bullet into his stomach.

The gun clicked as she rotated the barrel. "That hurt?" smirked Natasha.

"Not much," shrugged Steve. "So Bucky's holed up with Clint somewhere, and they're both armed with plastic guns."

"Oh look—he does learn fast," jabbed Tony.

Steve resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "What's their location?"

"Common Floor, south hallway," Tony rattled off. "You'll want one of these." He hefted a bright orange machine gun and held it out to Steve.

Giving the idea pause, Steve glanced over at Natasha—who had somehow caused the plastic gun to vanish somewhere amidst her clothes.

"Actually, I think I'll pass," answered Steve, allowing a boyish grin to appear on his face.

* * *

Bucky had a bad feeling that something in their plan had gone awry. It had been over twenty minutes since Tony Stark had first declared Nerf war, and still the billionaire had not reappeared.

"He over-prepares," Clint had rationalized, waving it off. "He'll show up soon, trust me, and then..." And so he'd launched into a bragging spiel about their guaranteed victory that Bucky figured was less to assure him and more to kill the time.

But the anticipation and boredom gave way soon enough when Steve's voice, mingled with Natasha's, became audible down the adjacent hallway.

"Positions, Sergeant," Clint grinned, sliding onto his stomach by the nest's edge.

Bucky flattened himself next to Clint, ensuring that the bright orange rifle was ready to fire.

"It's a good musical, actually," Natasha was saying, approaching at a leisurely pace. "Great music. I think you'd like it."

"I think I'll look into it, then," answered Steve. Bucky noted that he almost sounded tense. "What did you say, though—does it justify the wicked witch's actions?"

"No, I wouldn't say it does," replied Natasha.

Clint's trigger finger tightened by a hair, and Bucky copied the motion.

"It gives you a reason for her actions, though," Natasha went on. "Says a lot about her past, and her relationship with Glenda. I won't spoil it all for you."

She and Steve emerged within sight of the nest, and Natasha paused briefly before adding, "You should see it."

"I will," answered Steve.

His tone was peculiar. Factual and quiet, as if it wasn't so much a proper statement as a code...

Natasha paused under the "nest".

" _Dang it,_ " hissed Clint, grinning.

And that was when Bucky realized they'd been found out.

Natasha spun and fired two revolvers up into the nest even as Bucky and Clint ducked for cover and took shots over the edge. Bucky could hardly raise his head above the pillow barrier as bullets whizzed by, but the grin of exhilaration on his face was the widest he'd worn in _decades._

"Ow!" howled Clint. "I'm hit!" He laughed. "Watch out for her, Barnes."

Bucky popped his head up to snipe at Natasha and felt a sharp sting on his forehead.

"Ah!" he cried, crouching down.

"Ouch," laughed Clint. "She got you?"

Bucky paused for a moment before loading Natasha's stray bullets into the magazine of his own gun.

"Thanks for the ammo, Tasha!" Clint bawled over the edge and got a bullet to the cheek for his trouble.

Bucky shoved the magazine back into his gun and racked the slide.

"Wait, have you seen Rogers?" asked Clint.

The words were hardly out of his mouth when a cushion gave way under Bucky. He gave a yell and scrambled backwards as that cushion disappeared through the rafters in the grip of Steve Rogers.

"I've breached the wall!" cried Steve.

"Move in!" ordered Natasha.

"Fort Barnes and Barton has been compromised!" shouted Clint. "Abort mission! Abort, abort!"

He scrambled off the other side of the nest as Bucky followed, grinning crazily.

"After them!" cried Natasha as Bucky and Clint hit the floor.

It was a desperate chase, with foam bullets constantly stinging at their backs. That heroic chase lasted for all of six yards when the over-prepared Tony Stark appeared from a hall in the other direction, with a muzzle pointed at their necks.

"Turn back, turn back!" Clint roared in laughter as the slaughter began in earnest, Tony shouting triumph.

With Steve and Natasha on one side and Tony on the other, Bucky found himself trapped against the wall with Clint.

"This looks like the end," Clint heaved dramatically. "Nice knowing ya, Sergeant."

A strange noise escaped Bucky's throat, and he realized it was a giggle.

Silence fell. Slowly, all eyes turned to Steve, who looked like he could scream and laugh and cry and kiss someone to hear Bucky _laugh,_ really laugh.

Bucky dipped his head bashfully, feeling his face redden.

"Well, I believe we've accomplished our objective here," asserted Tony, squaring his shoulders in that preening way of his—made all the more ridiculous by the foam bullet getup.

"Not quite," countered Natasha. She pointed a bright orange gun at Clint's head. "Do we have your full and unconditional surrender?" she demanded.

"You'll never take me alive!" Clint shot back.

Natasha's gun fired with a loud _pow—_

And nothing came out.

Natasha took a quick look down the barrel. "Jammed," she said, then flashed Clint a smile. "That's embarrassing."

And after a moment's pause, it seemed the whole floor erupted in laughter, and Bucky felt his shoulders quiver as well.

Before they'd finished laughing—and to everyone's obvious surprise—a door not far off shut with a bang and a woman's voice called, "Tony? I'm back. I caught an early flight and managed to—"

Pepper Potts appeared in a nearby doorway, eyes wide.

"Is this what you do when I'm not here?" she asked.

"Pep!" grinned Tony with outstretched arms. "Baby, welcome back."

Pepper returned greetings, and a kiss, and an awkward hug on account of the criss-crossing bullet magazines on his chest, with Tony. Steve not so subtly slid away from Natasha and took up an overprotective stance at Bucky's side.

But when Pepper's smile finally rested on Bucky, he had to wonder what on earth Steve could be worried about.

"Hello," said Pepper, gently pushing Tony off. "Who's this?"

"Ma'am," began Steve, placing his hand on Bucky's flesh shoulder, "this is my best friend, James Barnes. Bucky, this is Pepper Potts."

"Welcome to the tower," Pepper greeted him warmly, shaking his right hand. Bucky couldn't help but smile.

"I hope Tony has behaved himself," added Pepper. Tony looked a little put out.

"Yes, ma'am, he has," answered Bucky, his voice low but steady—and he didn't even stutter.

After a moment, Clint asked, "Uh, Steve...do you need a minute?"

Steve swallowed hard and seemed to be fighting a radiant smile. "No, no—I'm fine," he answered thickly.

"Yeah, well, if you're going to kiss anyone, I don't want it to be me," put in Tony. "C'mon, Pepper." He grasped her arm and tried to tug her away.

"What? No," protested Pepper, "I was going to say hi to Bruce."

Natasha leveled a Nerf gun at Tony. "Let the woman go, Stark."

Tony scoffed. "Isn't that thing jammed?"

Natasha gave a devious smile. "I had two. Want to find out which one this is?"

Tony opened his mouth, looking primed for an argument, and Bucky almost got excited for a show when Clint slid into the space between Stark and Natasha.

"So," drawled Clint, "Barnes and I couldn't help but overhear you're going to Hokkaido. Can we come with? I know Bruce likes Japanese."

"No!" cried Tony, looking flustered. "It was a date, with me and Pepper—"

"Tony, it's okay," soothed Pepper. "After all, I just flew in. I'd like to catch up with everybody. Coming, Natasha?"

"Pep. Pepper. Please," Tony insisted, turning her to face him. "Think about this. Think about what you're missing. Just me and you, a romantic night alone, and then _afterward—_ "

"Yeah, no, Stark, we're coming," ordered Natasha.

"Fine! Okay! Group date to Hokkaido!" cried Tony, throwing his hands into the hair. "How about we invite Thor down from Asgard to join us? How about the Eyepatch and half of S.H.I.E.L.D? The more, the merrier!" He strode away, flailing his arms dramatically.

"You are _not_ going out dressed like that," protested Pepper, clipping along on his heels.

Natasha and Clint turned to follow them, when Natasha paused in her steps.

"Barnes? Rogers?" she asked simply, glancing between them both.

Bucky went a little rigid. He'd melted into the comforting banter caused by Pepper's arrival, and it took some time to come back to himself—and even longer to make a decision.

"You don't have to if you don't want to, Buck," Steve noted gently, and Bucky felt the pressure on his shoulder where Steve's hand squeezed it lightly.

"Yeah," agreed Clint, perching his elbow on Natasha's shoulder. "If you're done and want to crash, no one will think the worse of you."

Natasha nodded affirmation.

Bucky paused for a moment. Wants were something with which he still had trouble, after being "programmed" for so long to have no opinions and no thoughts other than those given to him.

But he did feel...tired. And standing next to Steve felt good, and the idea of quiet and peace was even better.

"I'll...I'm staying," he stated in a low voice. "Y-you have fun."

"Cool," said Clint with a grin, standing up to stride off. "See you later."

"Я горжусь тобой," murmured Natasha, casting Bucky a final, kind glance before she left.

Bucky decided that he _really_ liked Steve's friends.

With the soft thump of the elevator door shutting, quiet filled the sun-bathed Common Floor. Steve shook Bucky's shoulder gently and gave him a grin, which Bucky meekly returned.

"So," began Steve, his voice at a low volume to match the quiet. "What do you want to do?"

"May I make a suggestion?" asked JARVIS. His volume, too, was low, but both Bucky and Steve jumped at the sound.

"Did I cause you any alarm?" JARVIS asked, as if trying to amend the mistake.

The shock over, Bucky grinned and gave a small laugh at their silliness.

"That's all right, JARVIS," Steve replied, chuckling as well. "Sorry. You were saying?"

"Only that it's a generally suitable time for having dinner," continued JARVIS. "Rush hour traffic should have abated by now. Can I suggest some quiet local cafes in the area?"

Steve glanced at Bucky, as if for an answer.

"Yeah," Bucky nodded, smiling up at his friend. "I-I'd like that."

"Sounds great, then," Steve answered for them both, beaming enough to power Manhattan. "What d'ya have for us?"

* * *

 **A/N: Я горжусь тобой: Russian, "I'm proud of you". (At least according to Google Translate. Ha!) So** **, the romp ends with fluffelites!**

 **Up to this point, Plastic Guns and Foam Bullets has been written in advance.** **But with all the positive feedback I got, I just had to give you guys more shenanigans! So stay tuned for the epilogue, written smack on the spot just for you guys, that involves a certain Asgardian god...**

 **No, not Loki! The other one!**

 **Reviews are Japanese cuisine with friends. Friends or crazy people. Crazy friends.**


	3. Epilogue: Most Excellent Companions

**Epilogue: Most Excellent Companions**

Maybe it was sugar in the ice cream after dinner. Maybe it was boredom. Perhaps it was a resurgence of his trouble-making old personality, from Brooklyn days.

Nah. Bucky blamed the sugar.

Nerf assault rifle in hand, he stalked like a cat through the halls of the Common Floor, senses keen for the slightest clue of motion or sound. The best of his Winter Soldier instincts were on high gear. If Steve so much as breathed in the next room, Bucky would find him.

"Buck? Where'd you go?" Steve called from the living room.

If Bucky ever laughed, now was the time he would have done so. A tiny smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, but he pushed it down and sank against the wall.

"Are you—? Hey," Steve went on. His footsteps neared the corner between the room and the hall, where Bucky crouched in wait.

"If you don't want to watch the film, that's fine, you know." Steve's voice was beginning to take on a tone of confusion and concern. "You can tell me, Buck...I won't be mad."

Bucky's finger loosened on the trigger, and the rifle slumped in his arms. Was Steve worried? Bucky gnawed his lip and let the rifle drop between his knees. He didn't mean to do that. Maybe hiding was a bad idea now.

"JARVIS?" asked Steve.

"Yes, Mr. Rogers," the AI promptly replied. "Do you wish my assistance in finding Mr. Barnes?"

Bucky tensed up, wondering where this was headed.

"Yeah, actually. Thanks," said Steve as he kept walking. "Do you know where he—? Oh."

Steve had stepped into the hall, and now Bucky looked him in the eye. Bucky figured that he could look neither innocent nor dignified, sitting on the floor with a Nerf gun, so he didn't try.

"Uh..." began Steve.

"I suppose you have no more need of my assistance," JARVIS noted dryly.

"Uh—yeah," Steve answered the ceiling. "I think I've got it from here, thanks. What are you doing?" he asked Bucky.

Bucky raised the muzzle of his Nerf gun an inch. He shot at Steve.

"Ow!" Steve exclaimed as a little streak of blue pinged him in the stomach. "What...?"

Bucky grinned. He shot Steve again, this time in the arm.

"Hey!" At this point, Steve was laughing. "Stop it, jerk, that's not—! Oh. Uh-oh."

Bucky got to his feet and leveled the rifle at Steve.

It was a face-off. Super-soldier against super-soldier, friends turned enemies—the men out of time on opposite sides once again.

"Okay, but I get a head start," demanded Steve.

In answer, Bucky riddled his chest and side with foam bullets.

"Ow! Hey! Stop it! Stop it, Buck!" Steve threw both arms over his head and took off running. Bucky gave chase, speedily overtaking yards of the Common Floor carpet. He didn't miss a beat; nor did he miss his target.

Steve's super-soldier speed proved insufficient. Bucky watched as he dove over the back of a couch and came up with a throw pillow, flicking it into the line of his shots like a shield.

Bucky paused as Steve stared down at him from his place on the cushions. The back of the couch stood between them like a barrier. For a moment, it crossed Bucky's mind how unbelievably stupid this was.

Then Bucky gave chase, pushing Steve down the couch cushions and onto the coffee table as Bucky climbed up the couch himself. Steve continued to block Bucky's shots with the pillow, flicking them back in a crisscross rain of blue.

A loud crack and boom sounded on the roof of the Tower, and all the indoor lights flickered.

Bucky whirled around, planting himself next to Steve.

"I have returned, my friends!" bellowed Thor, shouldering through the elevator doors.

His scrutinizing gaze rested a long time on Steve and Bucky—both of them standing on Tony's coffee table—and then Thor added, "And it seems I choose to make my appearance at a most inopportune time."

"Uh, no, Thor, not at all," replied Steve, dropping the pillow and striding forward with a wave at Bucky to stay behind. "Good to see you're back. This is—"

"Greetings to you, friend Steven!" cried Thor, wringing his hand. "And friend James!" Before Steve or Bucky could react, Thor swerved around the couch and pulled Bucky's left hand firmly into his grip.

His _left_ hand. His metal hand. Bucky's eyes turned to saucers, and he couldn't breathe.

"Heimdall has been watching the events of Midgard closely," Thor went on, grinning from ear to ear, "and what he does not see, I have heard from Steven. I congratulate you most heartily on your freedom and your swift recovery!"

"Eh—I..." stammered Bucky, his voice dead in his throat. "Thank you?"

"You are most welcome."

Sweeping his cape behind him, Thor marched off to the kitchen, booming, "Continue with your enterprise! As for me, I am famished."

And with the distant slam of the fridge door, Bucky came back to his senses.

He glanced down and gave an experimental twist of his left wrist, on the hand that nobody touched—and he felt a tiny smile tug at his face.

"He's nice," Bucky whispered.

Steve had been running his fingers through his hair. "What?" he asked with a slightly breathless tone. "Nice—yes, he's nice," agreed Steve. "Just...loud."

Bucky paused, thinking over what Thor had said. He didn't know who Heimdall was, or what (or where) was Midgard, but a more important question occurred to him.

"Why does he care?" It wasn't broken or disbelieving, just curious. "I...I don't know him," Bucky went on, turning to Steve. "Why would he care that I'm free now?"

Steve had an extraordinary look on his face. "Because...because no one deserves to go through the things they did to you," he managed.

Bucky glanced down at his metal arm.

"And—he's right, you _are_ recovering. That's worth being proud of," Steve continued, raking his hair again. "Maybe—I don't know, you're _my_ friend, so everyone on the team respects you just for that. But I think they want to make you welcome, too. Just...for the person you are."

Bucky glanced up again.

 _I'm worth something?_

It seemed so simple, yet it was such a heady thought that he couldn't think about all it meant at the moment. He just stared into the kitchen after Thor.

"You can go ask him, you know," Steve said softly. "Maybe he'll tell you."

Indecision flitted around in Bucky's mind for a moment before he made up his mind, nodded, and stepped off of the coffee table. The Nerf gun was still in his hand.

When Bucky entered the kitchen, Thor sat on a bar stool at the kitchen island, finishing off the last two mouthfuls of microwave lasagna.

Bucky wasn't sure whether to find this unusual or not.

"Ah, friend James!" Thor greeted him before swallowing. "Did you wish to speak to me?"

Yep. Definitely unusual. Yet Thor had such a direct way of talking that it disarmed a lot of Bucky's apprehensions. Bucky glanced down at the Nerf gun in his hands and then held it out.

"D-d'ya know how to shoot one of these?" he asked.

Thor perched his elbow on the island and stroked his short beard, carefully inspecting the Nerf gun. "I am afraid I have no such prior skill," he admitted. Thor then turned an equally scrutinizing look onto Bucky. "And for what reason would you inquire after this?"

Bucky brought the Nerf gun back close to his chest.

"You gotta help me get Steve," he stated.

Thor roared in laughter and slammed the island with his fist. "Excellent!" he cried. "I would be honored to join you in this most noble enterprise! Show me the ways of your plastic device."

* * *

Thor found the small, orange "Nerf" guns to be most excellent playthings. The device that James lent him was very successful in annoying Steven, and causing him to flee.

"This is most invigorating!" declared Thor as he and James chased Steven through the Common Floor. Unfortunately, his gun ceased to fire its bullets.

"Friend James," he called, "the blue missiles in my device have expired."

"Jus' keep runnin'," James panted back, giving chase to Steven still. Yet within moments, his gun too ceased to fire, and James halted in his steps.

Steven jogged to a halt, glancing back at James and Thor. Yet it was obvious that his gaze was focused on James. The expression of the latter bordered closely on fear, so that Thor was nearly concerned for him. Yet James' face soon gained a cautious smile.

"You gonna chase me?" asked James, his voice low.

"Yeah," returned Steven, sporting a mischievous grin. "You gonna run?"

The smile broadened. "Yeah."

"Then start runnin'!" challenged Steven, and he dove for the fabric of James' shirt as the latter took off running, abandoning the orange device.

Thor chuckled, reminded for a moment of such chases between his young self and his raven-haired little brother. The nostalgic image was soon broken when Steven tackled James onto a couch.

Thor roared in laughter, adding to the sound of Steven and James' quieter mirth. So Steven helped James to his feet, and pulled him then into his arms and a warm embrace.

Thor smiled and turned, deciding to give the brothers in arms some privacy. And so, he left the room.

"I grudge you not, my friends," said he. "You have most excellent companions here."

 **The End!**

* * *

 **A/N: Yaaay, Steve and Bucky hug! *throws confetti prepared for the occasion* And that's it! Thanks so much to everybody who read, reviewed, favorited, and followed this piece. It really means a lot, and I hope I put as big a smile on your face as you put on mine.**

 **Also, cheers for Thor! He's a sweetie.**

 **Reviews are hugs. They're awesome.**


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